I always wear the black and white dress to baptisms and funerals.  It feels appropriate either way.  The dress is comfortable once I get it on, force three small buttons through slings behind my neck, like rounded black heads through too-small birth canals. 

While I'm concentrating on this intricate frustration I notice the small heart-shaped tin in my closet which is decorated with the same black and white scroll pattern on my dress.  Inside the tin is my six year old's…